80's Ladies
by Lady Maria
Summary: Crossover with the Sentinel and the WWE. Joyce had a past too. This is her story, from bra burning to her sister getting pregnant as a teen.


_A/N: The WWE, the Sentinel, and BtVS belong to their respective creators and whoever else owns them.  I'm just borrowing them.  Also, Joyce ended up making millions of dollars in the hotel business. Sorry, it just seems to fit this fic._

_This is a fic dealing with the past.  Look out for Blair's father's name.  I know you'll recognize it. And the song used is 80's Ladies by K.T. Oslin._

**We were three little girls from school.**

**One was pretty, one was smart**

**And one was a borderline fool.**

"Think we'll always be friends?" the youngest one asked.  She and her twin were nearly six months younger than Linda, who was the oldest.  Since they'd first met five years before on the first day of kindergarten, they considered those six months to be very important.

Linda Marie Rawlins tilted her head.  "I do."

The middle one, the one that was considered the smartest girl in school, grinned. "Why wouldn't we be? We've always been friends.  What's going to change?"

"Nothing," Naomi Sands said decisively.  "Not even growing up will keep us apart."

"Shake on it?" Linda suggested.

"Shake," Joyce Sands echoed, deciding the trio's course of action, the way she had for years.  The same way she would for years to come.

**Well she's still good lookin'**

**That woman hadn't slipped a bit**

Linda had taken risks, and plenty of them to get where she was.  But the truth of it was that she was still the pretty one.  She was still the oldest one, still looking towards Joyce for direction.

Alright, so she didn't actually look to her childhood friend anymore. But she used her memories of the blonde spitfire to guide her.  She never took risks that she knew that Joyce wouldn't approve of, and she still enjoyed long, lengthy phone calls with her.

Some things changed, the CEO of the WWE thought with a sigh, as her twenty-five year old came into the hotel suite, green eyes burning with indignation. Apparently Vince wasn't happy with his only daughter.  Of course, that had to be one thing that had stayed the same since Stephanie had hit puberty.

And then her eyes caught on the picture of Joyce and her only child. In the picture, Buffy was eighteen and her hair was windswept, the same as Joyce's.  Each wore a huge grin, and you could see the mountain range behind them.

The picture next to that one was of a redhead with the same grin.  Her eyes were a little more troubled than Joyce's, but her expression seemed much more serene at the same time.  Naomi was standing in front of a temple, obviously there for some odd reason. Probably enlightenment.

Neither of them seemed to change, no matter how much life threw at them.  Naomi still only had one child, Blair.  Linda hadn't seen the thirty-one year old since he was a toddler and she was dealing with a teething Shane. 

She'd last seen Buffy about five years before, although it was about time for her to visit.  Stephanie had been pestering her 'cousin' for weeks, never letting up on it.  

They were both figuring on her coming within the month, since the blonde had never been able to resist Steph. 

**The smart one used her head **

**She made her fortune.**

**And me, I cross the border every chance I get.**

Naomi Sandburg watched her son interact with his roommate.  She couldn't help but think that they acted like Vince and Linda had back when they first started dating. She shook her head. Sometimes, specifically when she was trying not to remember, the memories would come sneaking back. 

She'd actually grown up less than ten miles outside of Cascade, although she'd never told Blair that.  Her gaze lingered on a tree down the block, her mind's eye seeing a different tree.

For every grade the three of them had completed, they'd each carved some sort of design or expression into a huge old weeping willow that had been located on the Sands' huge acreage. They'd started the tradition in kindergarten, and on the final day of high school, they'd gone to town on it.  When they were finished, there was literally a mural on that tree. She had to wonder what had happened to it when their parents had sold the house and land.  It was probably gone, just like everything else.  

She wouldn't know since Linda had never told her.  Joyce was probably the only one who knew that information, and they had stopped speaking over twenty years prior. 

Jim Ellison looked over the woman who was basically his mother-in-law.  She was upset by something that she was remembering.  "Do you want to talk about it, Naomi?"

Startled from her thoughts, the redhead looked up.  "I might as well."

Blair gazed at her, years of questions playing across his face.  "You mean you're actually going to tell us what you think of whenever we lose your attention?"

She smiled briefly, a smile filled with a thousand regrets. "I grew up here," she managed finally.

"You're kidding," both men exclaimed. 

"No.  We weren't Jewish, although your father was, Blair.  I remember that Linda, Joyce and I would attend Sunday school at this tiny Methodist church on the outskirts of town. As the years passed, we stopped going to church as much and going to more parties.  The minister was so disappointed when I became pregnant at fifteen."  Her eyes had a faraway cast to them as she recalled the past. "So were Joyce and Linda for that matter."

"Who were Joyce and Linda?" Blair asked her. 

"Linda, Joyce, and I were the best of friends from the first day of kindergarten.  Most girls start drifting apart around fifth grade, but not us.  Linda wanted me in her wedding when she finally got married to her guy, but I wouldn't go.  I was so afraid that Joyce would be there."

"If you were the best of friends, then why were you afraid of seeing her?" Jim didn't understand women at all!

"We quarreled when we were seventeen.  She told me that I should get a college education with the part of the inheritance that my grandparents had left to me instead of putting it in stock."  She still wondered what had ever happened to Joyce, but short of calling Linda, what could she do?

**We were the girls of the 50's.**

**Stoned rock and rollers in the 60's.**

**And more than our names got changed**

**As the 70's slipped on by.**

**Now we're 80's ladies.**

**There ain't been much these ladies ain't tried.**

The teenage girls gathered around the bathroom mirror, each intent on her task.  Naomi just sat there, as Joyce applied the makeup and Linda did her hair.  "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"You're fifteen," Linda sighed, "and I don't think you should be pregnant much less getting married. Besides, there's just something off about that man."

"Amen," Joyce agreed emphatically.  "And the fact that he tried to grope me yesterday has nothing to do with it!"

"I get the picture."  She was six months along and wanted to settle down with someone, but she knew that only a fool would have groped her twin.  She had long ago made a promise to always listen to her instincts, and her instincts were telling her to not marry Ira Rosenberg.

She didn't know why she didn't trust him other than her friends' opinions, but she didn't. 

So she took off that night for San Francisco, changing her name to Sandburg, just in case her parents and her ex-fiancé were looking for her.  That didn't mean that her grandparents didn't know where she was though.  And Linda and Joyce definitely knew.

From that day on, the risk taker took even more risks and less responsibility.  She knew that Blair was paying for it, but she couldn't go back.  What if Ira wanted Blair?  She couldn't let that man get his hands on her son.

**We've been educated.**

"And here is the valedictorian of the University of Washington's class of 1978.  Graduating Summa Cum Lade, Joyce Sands."

**We got liberated.**

**And had complicated matters with men.**

"Look, Charlie," Naomi said gently, "you don't like my son.  That means that you and I are through!"

**Oh, we've said "I do"**

"Do you, Linda Rawlins, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Vincent McMahon…"

**And we've signed "I don't" **

"Sign here, Mrs. Summers." Her attorney was watching over her shoulder to make certain she didn't sign away any of her rights as a parent. 

"Mr. Summers," the judge turned to stare at the other party involved, "you need to sign as well."

**And we've sworn we'd never do that again.**

"Linda," Joyce's voice was tired and worn out for the first time in years, "I am never letting a man close to me for anything other than casual sex again!"

"Just because the men we married are asses doesn't mean that other men in the sea are as well," the older woman soothed.

"Bull shit!"

**Oh, we burned our bras, **

"Let's hear it for women!" Joyce screamed, jumping up onto a outside table and igniting her bra.

A policeman saw the sixteen year old and tried to get over to her before the riot got any more dangerous. But a sea of women and burning bras surrounded them.

**And we burned our dinners**

"Joyce," Linda's voice sounded frazzled, "I burnt water. How in the hell does one burn water?"

"I have no idea," Joyce was trying so hard not to laugh. "What were you trying to cook?"

"Macaroni and cheese. The blue box kind."

"Alright, Lin," Joyce couldn't hold back the chuckles, "I'll be back in Cascade tomorrow. Hold on that long, and I'll give you cooking lessons."

"Thank you so much, Joy!"

"No prob. Just don't poison your husband."

**And we burned our candles at both ends.**

"Hi, Aunt Linda!" chirped the blonde fifteen year old perched on the desk in the conference room.

"Hello, Buffy." She shot a smile at her tiny niece before doing a double take. "Buffy, why are you here?"

"Because Mom and Dad are fighting again." She shrugged. "Besides, Mom decided that after what happened, I should come bug you for awhile."

"What happened?" Linda knew that Joyce could handle a lot, so she knew that whatever the girl had done, it hadn't been exactly normal or even non-normal. 

"I burnt down Hemery's gym at prom."

"You did what?!" Linda shrieked.

"Burnt down the gym," she repeated sullenly.  "Wasn't my fault."

"Sure it wasn't," her aunt replied.

**And we've had some children **

**Who look just like the way we did back then.**

Joyce Summers watched her daughter pack, a fond smile on her face.  If her hair had been dyed red, Joyce would have thought that it was Naomi that was throwing things into a suitcase, worn out from all the traveling the twenty-three year old journalist did. 

But it wasn't Naomi who was cursing deadlines and people who didn't realize that there were people in the world who had vacation time. That was all Buffy.  The petite girl was packing with her usual flair, picking what she wanted and then squishing it all in. 

"You do realize that your clothing is going to be wrinkled?" Joyce questioned, amusement lacing her voice.

"Yes, but do I look like I care?"

"No, honey," she chuckled, "you don't."

"Good," her daughter smirked. "I wouldn't want the misinformation that I was happy having to postpone my vacation by three days to go cover a famine in Zimbabwe to get back to my bosses."

Joyce shook her head. "Admit it, Buffy. You love your job."

"I do, but I hate the frequent flyer miles that I accumulate.  Do you know that the people who run the International flights counter in SeaTac know me by name?"

"Only you, Buffy. Only you." Her mother shook her head, marveling at how many flights her daughter caught overseas.

"The one good thing about leaving from here is that no one at the Toronto airport knows my name!" 

**Oh, but we're all grown up now.**

**All grown up,**

**But none of us could tell you quite how.**

Stephanie watched her cousin get off of the plane.  The moment the Slayer was near enough for her to grab her, Steph caught her in a bear hug. "I've missed you!"

"Tell me about it," the younger woman groaned.  "We have got to see more of each other. It's just not healthy to go so long between the times when we're in the same place."

"No shit Sherlock." Scrutinizing Buffy carefully, she pursed her lips. "Speaking of shit, you look it."

"Thank you for that kind assessment."  As they stood at the baggage claim, Buffy shook her head. "Actually, I feel like shit, too.  There wasn't enough food for the Americans due to the famine, so the first food I'd eaten in three days was airplane food on the way back to England."

"You need to take food with you."

"I did…but I let the camera crew eat it."

Lamenting over her cousin's soft heart, Stephanie led the way out of the Portland airport.  After the Portland show, they were taking a couple days in Seattle for another show.

Besides, it would give them the chance to go home and recuperate.  Shane would be joining them, so they'd all be home at once. Hell would have to be freezing over.

**We were the girls of the 50's.**

**Stoned rock and rollers in the 60's.**

**Honey, more than our names got changed,**

**As the 70's slipped on by.**

**Now we're 80's ladies.**

**There ain't been much these ladies ain't tried.**

"So how was your latest assignment?" Linda questioned her niece.

"It's ones like this one that cause me to wonder why I became a journalist," Buffy responded with a scowl. "Not that I don't like it, but being in the U.S. again feels so right."

"That bad?" her aunt laughed.

"Let me put it this way," Buffy couldn't have looked more like Naomi and Joyce had as teens, "I hid behind a small bush as people tried to lick my shins because apparently, my skin had water in it.  I think that was what they said anyways!"

**A- My name is Alice.**

**I'm gonna marry Artie.**

**We're gonna sell apples**

**And live in Arkansas.**

She stood on the playground and could almost hear the whispers of those bygone days.  She didn't know anything about her mother's other friend, the one Aunt Linda had never told her about, but she knew that the three had been extremely close.

Buffy detected movement to her side, and was on her guard so fast that the two standing there blinked.  The moment that she realized her mistake, she blushed. "My bad, I thought that you were things that go bump."

"Things that go bump?" Blair Sandburg's eyebrow started to rise.  The petite girl looked to only be about eighteen, maybe twenty at the most, but her eyes looked older.  Even though she'd been coming at them as though she had the intent to kill them, her eyes had been the first thing he'd noticed. 

"Nothing you need to worry about," she shrugged.  The less they knew, the better it was for all concerned.

Naomi fixed the small young woman with a piercing glare. "If you're talking about vampires and the like, we're quite aware they exist!"

"Really?" This time it was her turn to look disbelieving.

"Yes really," Naomi softened her expression.  "I'm Naomi Sandburg and this is my son, Blair."  

As she spoke, they moved into a patch of light which allowed Buffy to get a good glimpse of the redhead.  An involuntary gasp escaped her; her mind comparing this redhead to the one in the photo that was always located on her aunt's nightstand.  It was definitely the same person, of that she was certain. "'m Buffy, and I've got to scram."

"Wait," Naomi wasn't sure why she said it, but it felt important.  "What's your last name?"

"Summers," her expression was shuttered as she kept backing up. "It's Buffy Summers."

"I knew a woman named Joyce Summers once, long ago."  Her eyes were the only thing that showed how much she hoped Buffy knew Joyce.

Blair had to wonder what was wrong with his mother.  She never acted this way.  Not even if the world depended on her actions would she have acted this way.  Unless…Joyce was the name of the friend she'd once had a huge fight with.  

Before Buffy could tell her that Joyce was the name of her mother, Stephanie's shout interrupted the conversation. "Cuz, we needed to be back at my mom's hotel ten minutes ago!"

Looking across the playground, Buffy sighed. "I need to be going.  McMahon's impatient as hell, so I know she won't wait."

"McMahon?" Naomi snatched onto the name like a drowning sailor. "Then you are Joyce's daughter."

"Yes, I am.  And you're the unnamed friend of Aunt Linda and Mom's."

"Joyce was my twin," she confessed, "but we argued terribly. How is she?"

Buffy stared at the woman, knowing that she was telling the truth.  "I'd tell you that you should call her up, but you have brains if you really are my mother's twin, so you already know that." With that, the Slayer walked away, pausing as she reached her cousin. "She lives in Toronto and owns several chains of hotels."

"Thank you," Naomi managed to squeeze out before her nieces walked away.

**B- My name is Betty.**

**I'm gonna marry Bobby.**

**We're gonna sell beans**

**And live in Brazil.**

Two weeks later, Jim and Blair watched a small processional of women and one man step up to the headstone.  After leaving Joyce's home four days prior, a semi-truck had smashed her car.  Naomi had died instantly.

"Omi," Joyce wept, "you're the one who was supposed to live forever in your castle of dreams."

"Nai, you're the youngest of us," Linda sobbed.  "You weren't supposed to die first."

Buffy went next. "I didn't know you well, but you shouldn't have died first. If anything, some demon or vampire should have killed me or Mom long ago. I mean, we lived on the Mouth of Hell for three years, until Faith took my job from me.  One of us should have died first, Aunt Naomi."

Then it was Shane's turn. "You used to visit when I was real little and you'd always tell Mom that you she should divorce Dad. That never happened, and you must have known that it never would.  But you'd always tell her that, and she'd always tell you to be a little more careful. Damn it, Aunt Naomi, why weren't you a little more careful and observant?!"

Stephanie was the next, tears already streaming from her eyes.  "I knew you about as well as my cousin did.  But you were our aunt.  You just **_had_ to go and die when we had just started to get to know you, didn't you?"**

Jim and Blair went last. "Rest in peace, Naomi.  You may not have been the perfect mother, but you were my mother.  Why did you have to leave?"

"Naomi, you'll always be missed," Jim's words were the final spoken over the grave, even though later her different relatives gathered at the home that she'd grown up in, the one that Buffy, Shane, and Stephanie shared when they weren't all over the world due to their differing jobs.

**C- My name is Connie.**

**I'm gonna marry Charlie.**

**We're gonna sell cars**

**And live in California.**

That night, after everyone had left and it was just Buffy, Shane, and Stephanie, Buffy sighed. 

"I really do wish that we'd gotten the chance to know her.  I mean, you have vague memories Shane, but we've only got one of her."

"Yeah," Stephanie nodded. "We have the playground memory."

"To memories and family. May we never forget," Shane lifted his Vanilla Coke.

"To memories and family," his sister's and cousin's voices blended together as their Cherry Coca-Colas met his can. 

_Well, what did you think? Please review! Since I'm not writing as much anymore, all reviews are welcome and extremely helpful.  Also, you can ask all you want on this one, BUT YOU'RE NOT GETTING A SEQUEL! Sorry, it's just that every time I try for a one shot, other people interfere._

_Besides, due to Spanish class, you can thank your lucky stars that I'm not adding Spanish speaking countries' Spanish spellings to this. (In case you haven't realized, I'm supposed to be studying for a quiz.)_


End file.
